Where My Demons Hide
by DREWHHR
Summary: It's four years after the War and Andromeda Tonks has just passed away, leaving Teddy to his godparents, Harry and Hermione, who are feeling guilt in different ways. Harry has taken to the bottle. H/Hr. Changed the rating because of the language.
1. The Funeral and the Will

**Hey, wassup? Here's another story. The title comes from Imagine Dragons' "Demons". Some elements in my earlier story "Beginnings" is in this one.**

 **This was extremely hard to write. A year and several months ago I went into rehab with alcohol problems. I am in recovery now and have been sober for over a year. There are going to be some alcoholic elements in this story. A lot of what goes on with Harry is from experience.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

 **Where My Demons Hide**

 **Chapter One**

 **The Funeral and the Will**

Harry held his four-year-old godson's hand tightly in his own as they gazed sadly at the casket in the six foot deep hole in the cemetery. His best friend, Hermione, was holding Teddy's other hand and with her other, a large, black umbrella, to keep the thick raindrops from soaking the three of them. The tombstone before them read " _Andromeda Tonks 1951-2002 Loving Wife, Mother, and Friend_ ". This was the young boy's grandmother.

Hermione handed her best friend the umbrella and picked up her godson, holding him close. He rested his head on her shoulder, glad that his godmother picked him up. Tears streamed down his face. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's going to be okay," she whispered in his ear.

"I miss her, Mummy."

"I know you do. I miss her, too."

Harry wrapped his free arm around the two, silently promising himself and them that he would never let anything happen to them. He would keep them safe. This was his family and he did not know what he would do without them.

People slowly began to clear out of the cemetery, leaving behind the trio. Harry could feel the outline of the flask in his jacket pocket calling out to him. His hands were occupied but he ached for a sip. His throat burned. It took all he had to restrain himself. However, he couldn't let go of his best friend and his godson.

The little boy's grandmother had died from a slow-acting curse. It weakened her over the course of four years. Hermione, who was still in training to be a Healer, did all she could to find a cure. She stayed up until the early hours of the mornings pouring over books of spells and curses. But to no avail. She hated seeing her friend slowly die. She tried very hard not to blame herself.

"Can we go, Mummy?" Teddy whispered in her ear. She nodded. "Of course."

With one last look, Harry led them out of the cemetery to the car. He stood with the umbrella over Hermione as she strapped Teddy into his car seat. With one last look at the gravestone in the distance, Harry drove away back to the countryside toward their house in Godric's Hollow.

* * *

"Teddy, go get ready for your bath. I'll be there in a second," Hermione told her godson as they walked into the door later that evening. The little boy ran up the stairs, his footsteps getting quieter as he went to toward his bedroom.

Hermione looked at her best friend. "Are you okay?" She knew he blamed himself, too. He had been on the Auror mission assigned to capture the Death Eater that had cast the curse on her.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

He was anything but fine. And Hermione knew that. But she gave him some space. Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, she went up the stairs to give her godson a bath, her heels clicking on the granite stairs.

Harry loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his black dress shirt. Taking his flask out of his jacket pocket, he walked into the living room. " _Incendio_ ," he whispered pointing his wand at the fireplace. Flames rose from the pieces of logs. Unscrewing the flask, he took a long swig. The whiskey burned his throat going down. He took another sip. And another. The heat from the alcohol mixed with the heat from the fire. He shrugged out of his jacket and threw himself on the couch.

Images emerged into his mind. His godson's grandmother's sickly pale face as she fell. The Healer's face as she explained Andromeda's condition. Teddy's tears as he curled up next to his grandmother on the hospital bed. The files on his desk that showed the image of the man who cursed her-still on the run. With that last thought, he downed the last of his flask. He stood up from the couch uneasily. The effects taking hold. He stumbled to the liquor cabinet and poured a glass of whiskey. He drank it in one shot and then grabbed the bottle.

A tear tracked down his face. He could've saved her. If only he had worked harder to find Belial Halvor. He would give anything to give his godson back his grandmother-the last link he had to his parents. The little boy was only five years old. He wondered if Teddy blamed him. He wouldn't protest. It was his fault she was dead. He unscrewed the cap off of the bottle and tipped it back, taking a long drag. He wanted to drink until he passed out. He didn't want to think about anything anymore.

He remembered the War. He remembered the dead that lined the courtyard. But most of all, he remembered the living. Those that survived their loved ones. He knew they blamed him. He knew they would not call him a hero. He didn't care about that title, anyway.

Fred's body was in the front of his mind. His lifeless corpse lying there on the Great Hall floor. His mother, father, brothers, and sister crowded around him in tears. Fred had been like his own brother. Now a brother was without his twin and it was Harry's fault. If only he had turned himself in. He didn't go to the Burrow very often in fear of seeing their faces.

He thanked his lucky stars for Hermione. Hermione. His best friend. His shining light. He didn't deserve her. She was there for him-through the nightmares, the drinking binges. What did he do to deserve her? He hid his feelings for her, not believing she would return them. Why would anyone want to be with a murderer?

He sluggishly walked back to the couch, toeing his shoes off and laying down. He passed out, the bottle resting on the floor.

* * *

That was how Hermione found him when she went down the stairs. She had come to tell him that she was tucking Teddy in and wondered if he wanted to help her. Their godson liked it when they both tucked him into bed. She went over to the front of the couch. He was disheveled, his shirt wrinkled, his hair mussed. She took the bottle from his hand and set it on the coffee table.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered. She wished she could help him. He was drinking a lot lately. She didn't like it. She hoped he didn't drink on the job. He could get fired or worse, seriously hurt.

She wished she could convey just how much she loved him. But she knew he didn't feel the same for her. Hermione had always thought he considered her a best friend and nothing else. More like a sister.

"You get some rest, Harry. We have the reading of Andromeda's will tomorrow. I love you," she told him and stood up. Dousing out the fire, she went back upstairs to her godson's room.

Teddy was sitting up in bed, reading a children's book. Hermione had insisted her godson to be well-read in all of the classics. His reading level was five years higher than his age. His head snapped up as she walked into the room. He gave a look of confusion when he didn't see his godfather.

"Where's Daddy?"

"Daddy fell asleep. Is it okay if just I tuck you in?"

The little boy nodded, a little sad his godfather wasn't there. Hermione walked over to him and sat on the bed. "You were a brave little boy today, Teddy. I'm sorry about Grandma."

"It's not your fault," he told her with a small voice, placing his hand on hers. Tears welled up in her eyes. He was wise beyond his years. She wondered where he got it from. "I know you did everything you could, Mummy." After a moment, he asked, "What's going to happen to me?"

"We're going to find out about that tomorrow."

"I want to stay with you and Daddy."

"I know. I want you to stay with us, too. Now, get some sleep, okay? We have to get up early."

Teddy nodded and placed his book on his bedside table, scooting down further under his covers. Hermione tucked him in and kissed his forehead. "I love you, Teddy. Very much."

"I love you, too, Mummy." He shut his eyes and went to sleep.

Hermione turned off the lamp and left the room, going into her bedroom. She kicked off her black heels, and climbed under the sheets in her bed, still in her black dress. She fell asleep crying.

* * *

The next morning, Harry woke to the smell of bacon, eggs, and coffee. He sat up in confusion. He had passed out on the couch. His head was pounding, his mouth dry as cotton. He took off his suit jacket and his tie. With one last look at the bottle of whiskey on the coffee table, he stumbled into the kitchen, where Hermione was standing at the stove cooking breakfast. Teddy was at the table reading, as usual.

"'Morning, mate." He ruffled his godson's hair affectionately. He smiled up at him. "'Morning, Daddy."

"Hey, Harry. There's some coffee made. Make sure you drink some water, too. Breakfast will be ready soon," Hermione told him.

"Thanks." He walked to the cabinet and took a coffee mug and a glass out, filling both of them. He downed the water first, hydrating himself. He walked up behind Hermione. "Here, I'll finish making breakfast." With all the shit she put up with him, the least he could do was finish breakfast.

"You don't have to do that."

"We both know that you're not that good of a cook," he chuckled, causing her to playfully smack his arm. But she relinquished the spatula to him. It was true. She had had some disasters in the kitchen.

"Are you going to adopt me?" Teddy inquired. Harry immediately stopped cooking and he and Hermione whipped to look at him.

"W-what?" Hermione asked astonished.

"Are you going to adopt me?" he repeated.

"We'll see what your grandma's will says today, mate. But would you like to be adopted?" Harry asked him.

"Very much. I already call you 'Mummy' and 'Daddy'." Teddy had insisted on calling them that when he had first learned to talk. His godparents had been shocked but flattered. They were surprised Andromeda was fine with it. In fact, she encouraged it. " _Teddy needs someone to call 'Mummy' and 'Daddy'_ _in his life_ ' she had told them.

"We'll talk about it after the reading of the will. How about that?" Hermione asked.

Her godson nodded and went back to his book.

Hermione exchanged a look with Harry. He nodded, indicting it was what he wanted, too. She gave him a smile and sat down as Harry finished making breakfast. "Okay, breakfast time."

* * *

"' _The Last Will and Testament of Andromeda nee Black:_

 _I, Andromeda Tonks, of being of sound mind and body, bequeath my three-fourths of my fortune to my one and only grandson, Theodore Remus Lupin, when he comes of age. The remaining one-fourth will go to my sister Narcissa Malfoy nee Black._

 _I bequeath all of my property to my nephew, Draco Malfoy, in hopes he can have a fresh start with his new family._

 _Lastly, I bequeath the custody of my grandson, Theodore Remus Lupin, to his godparents, Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger. Take care of him. He is the one thing I love most in this world._

 _Teddy, my dear Teddy, Grandma will always love you. Take good care of Harry and Hermione. They'll need all the help they can get._ '"

Teddy smiled up at his new guardians, happy he was going with the two remaining people he loved most in this world. "Does this mean you're going to adopt me?" he asked excitedly. He remembered they were going to talk about it right after the will and he did not want to waste one more second.

Hermione laughed. "I'll ask about the paperwork. I'll be right back." She kissed the top of her godson's head and walked away from her two boys.

Harry looked up and saw a figure he hated when he was in school. _'Who knew my school bully would become my friend?_ ' he thought to himself as Draco Malfoy and his wife, Astoria, walked over to him. Astoria was heavily pregnant with their first child. "Hello, cousin," Draco said to Teddy.

"Hi, Draco."

"Congratulations on the new house, mate," Harry told him.

"Thank you and congratulations on the new rugrat." They both chuckled. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Declare your love for Hermione, will you?"

Harry blushed hard. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yeah, it is. It's a little pathetic, too."

"Very pathetic," Astoria added.

Suddenly, Harry began to sweat. His withdrawal symptoms were kicking in. He hadn't had a sip since before they left for the Ministry.

"You alright, mate?" Draco asked, noticing his fidgeting.

"Yeah, I'm alright."

"Okay, well, we better get the paperwork for the new house. I'll see you around, mate." With parting waves, the Malfoys walked away.

"He's right, Daddy," Teddy said to his godfather. "It _is_ pathetic."

Harry gave him a playful glare. Hermione arrived back with a huge stack of papers in her hand. "Looks like we're going to be up all night with these papers." Harry groaned. More paperwork. But he knew it was worth it. The three walked out of the courtroom into the main hallway of the Ministry.

He needed a relief. He needed a drink. "I'll be right back. I need to use the loo." He hurried to the loo. He stood in front of the mirror. His face was pale. His muscles were shaking. He reached into his pocket for his flask. He figured vodka would be better to carry around. It didn't leave as much of a smell on him that whiskey did. He took a drag and sighed, closing his eyes. Tucking the flask back into his pocket, his muscles stopped shaking and he was able to function better. He splashed some cold water on his face and left, meeting his new family in the hallway, where they were waiting patiently for him.

Teddy held out his hand for him to take. He took it and they left the Ministry.

 **TBC...**

* * *

 **The point of this story is to show another side of alcoholism. I don't know who knows a lot about it but it's something I've very passionate about and I'm extremely happy to incorporate it into a story featuring my favorite OTP.**

 **If it offends anyone for any reason, I'm sorry.**

 **Pleez review!**

 **DREWHHR**


	2. It's All Your Fault

**Thanks for the reviews! And for the support.**

 **Here's a little tidbit about addiction/alcoholism: it's actually a brain disease and it's the only disease that tries to convince you that you don't have a disease. And what pisses me off about television these days is that alcoholics and addicts are demonized. It's not that they WON'T stop, it's that they CAN'T stop unless they get the proper help. Anyway, sorry about that.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.**

 **Chapter Two**

 ** _It's All My Fault_**

Hermione was up late with the adoption papers laid out on her desk in her office. The clock on the wall read "2:34". Harry had offered to stay up much later with her and help but she insisted he went to sleep two hours ago as he had to go into work early the next morning. She gave a long yawn and set her pen down on the desk, leaning back in her chair. She needed some sleep.

Just as she pinched the bridge of her nose, she heard a cry from down the hall. "No!" Grabbing her wand from the top of the desk, she sprang into action, running down the hallway toward the sound of the noise. It came from Harry's room.

"No! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Hermione threw the door open. Her best friend was thrashing around in bed. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Harry! Harry!" she called, trying to wake him up. She ran to his side, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him. "It's okay! It's just a nightmare. It's only a nightmare. You're safe."

Harry's eyes snapped open and he gasped for air, beginning to hyperventilate. "Calm down. Slow your breathing." Hermione placed her arms around his shoulders, holding him to her body. "It's okay. It's over."

"Hermione...?" His mouth was dry. He had drank again the night before, causing himself to pass out in his bed. The empty vodka bottle on his bedside table, tipped over.

"It's me. I've got you."

Harry curled himself up in her arms, wanting to drown in them. During that moment, Hermione was reminded of that eleven-year-old boy she met on the Hogwarts Express their first year. Her heart broke into a million pieces. She wanted to protect him from all of his ailments and worries. "Did...did I wake Teddy?"

"I don't think so. You know he's a sound sleeper," Hermione answered, reassuring him. She knew he hated being a burden and waking people up, especially those he cared about.

Harry sobbed into her chest, wetting her shirt. But she didn't care. "It's okay, Harry. I get them, too. Lots of them."

"I have dreams about things that don't even happen. Nightmares of you and Teddy dying. I won't let that happen, Hermione. I won't." Her heart broke for him. She knew Harry's wounds weren't visible. She wished she could take the pain away.

"I hate this."

"What?"

"Feeling like this." He moved his tongue around his mouth, trying to get rid of the dryness so he could talk properly. "I hate feeling like this. This guilt. It's eating me up by the mouthful."

"I know. Occasionally, I feel it, too. But you have to understand that you did everything you could to find him."

"Not enough. He's still out there. He's still at large. Who knows who his next victim will be? I have to find him, Hermione. I have to."

"And you will. You're a great Auror. One of the best." She kissed the side of his head.

"I promise you, Hermione. I promise on my parents' grave-on Andromeda's grave-I will find him."

Hermione stayed with him that night. She curled up next to him on the bed and held him as he fell asleep to the sound of her heartbeat. She, in turn, fell asleep to the sound of his breathing.

* * *

Hermione woke up in an unfamiliar room to the sound of the door opening. _'Harry's room_ ' she thought to herself remembering last night. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she looked at the doorway and saw her godson standing there. His hair-blue today-unkempt and his mouth open in a yawn. The spot next to her on the bed was empty. Harry must have already went to work.

"There you are, Mummy! Why are you in Daddy's room?" Teddy asked curiously.

"Daddy was scared last night so I stayed with him," she answered, matching his yawn.

"Daddy gets scared?"

"Yep, sweetheart. Even Daddy gets scared sometimes. He needs people like me and you to protect him. You want some breakfast?"

He nodded vigorously and led her down the stairs to the kitchen where she poured him a bowl of cereal and started making some coffee.

"Am I adopted yet?" the little boy asked as she sat down with her own bowl and a cup of coffee.

"Not yet, darling. I was working on the paperwork last night. But...almost. I'll finish later and file it tomorrow."

"Yes!" he cried out enthusiastically, a large grin on his face. Soon, a curious look donned it. "Does that mean you and Daddy are going to get married?"

Hermione nearly choked on her cereal and had to take a swig of her coffee to wash it down. Her face turned red at the idea of marrying her best friend, who just so happened to be the man that she loved. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, don't mummies and daddies get married?"

Teddy's reasoning was a bit cute but she said, "Well, we're not in love, Teddy. Only people who are in love get married. But you know what?"

"What?"

"We both love _you_ very much and that's what matters and we're happy to call you our son."

That seemed to appease the little boy and he didn't say anything else until after breakfast. But he gave something for Hermione to think about that morning: the idea of being married to Harry.

He would make a great husband. He already made a great father. She imagined living in this house with Teddy and three other children. Their own. A girl with messy black hair and brown eyes. Twin boys with brown hair and green eyes. She blushed furiously as she imagined their wedding night. What it might be like to lie beneath him as he made love to her.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you? Being married to Daddy?" her godson's voice snapped her out of her daydreaming.

* * *

"Auror Potter, I have those files you wanted," Draco said walking in with a folder of papers in his hand. He set them on Harry's desk.

"Thanks, Draco. And you can call me 'Harry' when we're at work." His fingers drummed on the desk as he opened the folder, eager to learn about the latest report on Belial Halvor. He frowned. Nothing useful. "Fuck."

"Don't worry, Harry. You'll find him."

"A woman's dead because of me, Draco."

"It wasn't-"

"-my fault. I know. I keep hearing that. Doesn't mean I believe it." He looked away and he flicked his hand, wandlessly sending the files to the rest in the Belial Halvor case. He stood up. "I'm off to the loo."

A lie.

He needed a drink. "Going to the loo" is what he called it. He wondered if people thought he had a bladder problem. But he needed to concentrate and he couldn't focus if his mind was pining for just a sip.

"I better get back to work." His colleague left his office, going right.

Harry went left towards the loo. His hands itching towards the flask in his robe pocket. He opened the door. Empty. Good. He took the flask out, unscrewed it, and knocked it back into his mouth. His sweet, burning nectar. He shook his head, clearing it. That'll last for a while. It'll keep his monster at bay. Pocketing the flask, he cast a breath-refreshing spell on his mouth to hide the whiskey smell and walked out.

He refused to look at himself in the mirror as he walked out. Not after seeing how awful he looked yesterday. He didn't want to see the asshole staring back at him. Didn't want to take a good look at who he had become.

"Harry! There you are!" he heard from down the hall. A flash of red hair was hurrying toward him. Ron. His Auror partner. "There's been another attack!"

"Is it-?"

"Halvor? We think it might be."

Harry rushed into action, following his other best friend toward the front of the Ministry to the Floos. Finally, a lead on this monster.

* * *

Hermione was called in after she had showered. There had been another attack in Diagon Alley. No doubt Harry had been called to the scene. She took Teddy to St. Mungo's daycare and rushed to casualty. Sixteen victims had been brought in bleeding profusely.

Healer Locksley, her superior, pointed to the healers who should cover who. Hermione went to a woman who looked to be in her thirties. "Where's Sam?" she cried out. "Where's my husband?"

"It's okay. I'm going to get you fixed up right now," she reassured her. The woman was bleeding from her abdomen. She waved her wand for the blood clotting spell. "What's your name?"

"N-Natalie."

"Okay, Natalie. I'm going to give you a Numbing potion so the pain will go away." The other woman nodded as Hermione tipped a vial into her mouth. A little fell down her lip but it began to work immediately.

"Where's Sam?" Natalie asked again.

"I'm right here, Natalie. I'm getting fixed up, too," said a male voice behind the Healer. It was a man about the same age as Hermione's patient. He had a large cut on his shoulder. He didn't look as bad as she did. "I'm so sorry, Nat." He was crying. "I tried. I tried to cover you as soon as I heard the blast."

"Sam...Oh, Sam. It's okay." She started crying, too. "It's okay. I'm fine. We're both fine. It wasn't your fault."

Hermione's heart tugged as she began cleaning up the blood on her patient. " _It wasn't your fault_." It was a phrase she was familiar with. All too familiar. She saw herself in Natalie and Harry in Sam.

Andromeda. It wasn't her fault.

It wasn't Harry's fault.

It was Belial Halvor's.

* * *

"What happened?" Harry asked Florean Fortescue, the ice cream parlor owner, who had sent the fire message for help. Rubble was everywhere, dust was still trying to settle. Bodies littered the ground. There must have been about twenty of them. Harry's heart dropped. He hated this part of his job. This was why he wanted to become an Auror. To prevent this.

"There must have been about eight of them," the ice cream man answered. "Shooting all kinds of spells all over the place. Killing Curses, bomb spells. It all happened so fast. They didn't stand a chance."

Harry commanded his team to spread out and look for any signs of who had done this massacre. Even though he had an idea who was responsible. Was it possible Belial Halvor had amassed followers?

His hand began to shake. Withdrawal symptoms again. He looked around at his surroundings. Seeing no one watching him, he went into a side alley and took a drink of his whiskey. Just a small one. A tiny sip. His shaking receded and he was back to normal. Coming out of the alley, Ron came running up to him.

"Harry! Harry! We found something!"

He followed Ron to another alley on the other side of Florean's ice cream parlor. Harry gasped at what he saw on the wall.

"Fucking hell," he said.

Written in what looked like blood were the words, " _It's all your_ _fault._ "

Harry had no doubt who the message was for.

Even though he just had a sip, he needed a fucking bottle to drink.

 **TBC...**

* * *

 **Well, there's chapter two. Sorry about the long wait.**

 **Pleez review!**

 **DREWHHR**


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